The Doctor's Reckoning

Chapter 5: A Silent Vow

When Joaquin returned home, the familiar scent of a home-cooked meal greeted him. 

His elder sister stood by the stove, humming softly as she ladled soup into bowls. 

For a moment, Joaquin felt a pang of guilt. 

She worked so hard to keep everything together, yet here he was, weighed down by betrayals and battles he hadn’t even begun to share.

“You’re just in time,” she said, her voice warm. “Dinner’s ready!”

At the dinner table, Joaquin forced himself to act normal. 

He focused on eating, avoiding eye contact with his sister.

“Is something bothering you?” she asked, her tone gentle but probing.

Joaquin hesitated. “No, just tired from work.”

She seemed unconvinced but didn’t press further. 

Instead, she brought up a topic that made Joaquin’s chest tighten.

“How’s Mikyla? She hadn’t come to our place for a while.”

Joaquin’s grip on his chopsticks tightened, but he managed to keep his voice steady. 

“She’s been busy with work.”

His sister’s expression softened. “That’s understandable. I was thinking—maybe we should meet her parents soon to discuss the wedding.”

Joaquin froze. 

The idea of pretending everything was fine with Mikyla, especially after her betrayal, made his stomach churn. 

But he couldn’t bear to disappoint his sister, not when she looked so hopeful.

“Sure,” he said, the word feeling like sandpaper on his tongue.

After dinner, Joaquin retreated to his room, unable to shake the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. 

The memory of Andrew’s taunts and Mikyla’s betrayal replayed in his mind like a broken record. He swore silently to himself: One day, she’ll regret it. She’ll see what she threw away.

Joaquin couldn’t sleep that night. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the floor, his mind turning to the legacy he had inherited. 

The voice of his ancestor echoed faintly in his memory, urging him to hone the skills passed down through generations.

He took a deep breath, he focused inward, tapping into the reservoir of knowledge he had unlocked. 

Techniques in natural medicine, Western medical practices, and martial arts began to surface in his mind. 

It felt like unlocking doors he hadn’t even known existed. Hours passed as he practiced simple movements and mental exercises, each one sharpening his clarity and control.

The next morning, Joaquin woke with a newfound sense of energy. His body felt lighter, his mind clearer. 

He was ready to face the hospital, even if it meant enduring the disdain of his colleagues.

Joaquin quickly realized his new role wasn’t going to be easy as he reported to the caregiving station. 

Whispers floated around him, snide remarks about his demotion and the rumors spread by Andrew. 

He tried to ignore them and focused on his tasks instead.

“Joaquin,” the head nurse called out, her tone was brisk. “We’ve got a situation in Room A01. The patient has gone through four caregivers in less than a week. You’re up next.”

Joaquin frowned. “What’s the issue?”

“Difficult temperament,” she replied with a shrug. “Let’s see if you can handle it.”

Taking a deep breath, Joaquin headed to Room A01. As he approached, he could hear the muffled sound of a TV playing in the background. When he stepped inside, he stopped short.

The patient wasn’t what he expected.

A woman—no older than her late twenties—sat on the bed, her posture relaxed but commanding. Her long legs were crossed, accentuating her confident demeanor. Her skin was flawless, glowing with an almost ethereal quality. 

She wore a silk robe that clung to her figure, and her sharp eyes locked onto Joaquin the moment he entered.

“Who are you?” she asked, her voice cool but edged with curiosity.

“I’m Joaquin,” he said, holding up his caregiver ID. “I’ll be taking care of you.”

She leaned forward, examining his ID with a raised brow. “Taking care of me? That’s ambitious.”

Joaquin shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Her confidence was disarming, and there was a sharpness to her tone that hinted she wasn’t easily impressed.

As he prepared to introduce himself further, her lips curled into a faint smirk. “You were staring at me just now,” she said, her voice teasing.

Joaquin felt his face heat up. “I wasn’t—”

“Yes, you were,” she interrupted, her smirk widening. “What caught your eye? My legs? My skin? Or something else?”

Her boldness caught him off guard, and he struggled to find the right words. “I—uh, I didn’t mean to stare. I was just...”

“Looking,” she finished for him, tilting her head. “Well, what did you think?”

Joaquin blinked, unsure how to respond. 

Her provocative tone was laced with flirtation, but there was also an edge of amusement as if she enjoyed watching him squirm.

He cleared his throat, deciding to steer the conversation back to professionalism. “I’m here to ensure you’re comfortable and to assist with your recovery. If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”

The woman chuckled softly, leaning back against the pillows. “You’re interesting, Joaquin. Most caregivers either quit or try to boss me around. But you... you’re different.”

Joaquin wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or a warning, but he decided to remain cautious. “I’m here to do my job.”

“Good,” she said, her tone playful but firm. “Then let’s see if you can last longer than the others.”